One more time
by damn unique
Summary: Max is trying to live with her decision of sacrificing Chloe, but she soon has to admit that she can't simply let things go. A world without Chloe isn't something she can get used too. Not while she's still having her power and hence still having a chance...
1. Just once more, I promise

**A/N:** Okay, I've somehow had to start this because this game changed my life in a way. I don't know where it is going now, but I needed to write this down because there is so much potential for a second part of the game.

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 **One more time**

 **Chapter 1 - Just this once, I promise**

I know I had to end things. I know sacrificing Chloe was the right thing to do. Giving up my selfishness that had triggered the deaths of so many people was the only way to avoid the destiny of Arcadia Bay. It had to be done and only I could do it. But why? Why me? Was this a test of the universe? A tornado that was triggered by my sad infatuation with an old friend. My best friend... Or was it because there was more to it. If the universe didn't want us together why did it even give me the chance to start all this trouble that would mount into a disaster? Why am I punished for falling in love?

I'm too weak to live on without her. But no matter what I do in the past to fix this, it will only get worse. Chloe is dying in every possible scenario and I'm too weak to save her. There must be another solution. Her death can't be the equation of this riddle.

Did I really put all the pieces together? Maybe I oversaw something important. I still have the power to go back. It can't hurt to go back once more. Maybe I can explain everything to Chloe. Maybe it'll give us more time to figure things out. Maybe I'll find a way. For her. For us...

I need to go back. One more time. Just to make sure I did everything I could...

It took the whole night to find a fitting picture. After Chloe's funeral, I stared at every single photo that has ever been taken of us. There are much too few and not one of them could capture her character and soul as they should have been captured and remembered. After trying to focus on various photos without getting the wished effect, I finally was able to get a hold of a picture that I took with Warren. It was before Nathan shot Chloe in the restroom. Maybe I can go back there and stop the wheel before it even starts turning. The only thing I have to manage is to make Chloe understand even without having experienced anything between us but separation.

Chloe, please forgive me for starting this chaos all over again. I tried living without you, but truth be told: I simply can't.


	2. Me, myself and her

**A/N:** Ugh, well that's what you get for getting wasted and publishing something you haven't thought through. Admittedly, I was a bit surprised about the reviews and favorites for this humble story start. I wanted to end the story before it has started, but after getting so many positive responses I feel like I would cheat on the readers that honored my drunk words. So, I sat down and wrote a second chapter to a totally unplanned story. It's a bit like accidentally getting into some sort of a relationship after you've met someone at a party after having too much wine. Maybe it's a waste, or maybe it's a start of something great. You'll never know until you try, right?

Thank you all for the support, it's the reason this second chapter exists. Oh and sorry for not having a beta. Please keep in mind, English is only my second language.

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 **Chapter 2 - Me, myself and her**

My head is throbbing with pain and my hands are quivering. How am I supposed to concentrate on this photo if I can't even hold it steady? I've been staring at it for an hour now, but nothing happens. The silence of my room is deafening and every time I try to focus, the walls seem to be closing in on me. Maybe there's something wrong with the picture. Maybe it doesn't work with any random piece of memory. I walk over to my photo wall and go over every single picture. It's like looking at my biography in a nutshell. Or shall I say, one of my biographies. I've been in so many realities by now that it sometimes feels as if the pictures on the walls change daily. My gaze keeps hanging on the scarce polaroids that are dominated by the strong shade of Chloe's blue hair. There are so few pictures of her and not half of them are mine. Joyce was nice enough to let me have some of her collection. Though, it felt as if she was glad to get rid of them. And I do understand her, looking at them is like getting your heart torn out, over and over again. I sigh and catch myself crumbling the photo in my hand. "Don't freak out now, Max," I whisper to myself and hold out the picture in front of me once again. I can do this. Warren has chosen quite the unfavorable angle for this shot. He probably was trying to hide his blush while holding the camera above our heads. The fear of having lost my power seems to get the best of me every time I am about to get the knick of traveling back with that picture. Or maybe I'm just afraid of doing more harm. Going back means not only having Chloe alive again, it also means having Mr. Jefferson roaming free.

I wonder how many memories one lifetime; one human is able to endure before hitting the bottom of nut-town. Sometimes I wish I could change my memories along with my decisions. That the flap of the butterfly that can - according to chaos theory - trigger a tornado would wipe out my memory just as it wiped out Arcadia Bay, but then, not only the bad memories of Mr. Jefferson were gone, but also the good. Every second of Chloe's and my adventures, of our time together, would be gone and I've sworn I wouldn't forget her. I'm gonna keep this promise since I'm breaking another one by trying to save her. Again.

My arms are getting heavy from holding up the picture and after another ten minutes full of headache and frustration I put it on the nightstand and go back to my teenage world of endless self-pity.

Blackwell seems to have lost every meaning to me. I still love taking pictures, but losing your best friend and your favorite teacher just makes you doubting the point of… well, of it all.

This room feels like a prison right now. I wonder if it would make any difference if I just visit another string of fate: Kate Marsh. For quite a while she was the saddest thing that had ever happened in my life. Her suicide felt like being entirely my fault. With all my power of rewinding and manipulating time I wasn't able to find the right words at the right time. Only by losing Chloe, I realized that there could be something worse than being responsible for the suicide of a close friend. Somehow being with Kate is one of the few things that brings me solace in this reality. Seeing her alive again is the best outcome of this scenario, besides not having a devastated city of course, though I still doubt from time to time that this city was worth saving.

I lowly knock at Kate's door and she opens it with a weak smile.

"Hey Max, I knew it is you. You're the only one, who's knocking as if my door is as fragile as my ego." She probably means it as a joke, but having seen her lifeless body on the ground in front of the dorms, I can't force a smile to my lips. She waves me in and I gladly follow the invitation. I sit down on her bed while she's brewing tea for us. Kate's one of those people where I can just be my sappy self without being mocked. I know she will let me sit here in silence, being at my side just for the sake of not letting me alone. I take a sip from the mug she had placed in front of me. The herbs are subtle but the sweet taste lingers on my tongue for quite a while. A bit like my feelings for Chloe… Man, I'm really fucked up, if I even find a connection between Chloe and the taste of tea leafs. Being myself, has become more and more frustrating over the last month.

Kate is gazing out of the window, enjoying the tea with a contemplating look on her face. At least not everything is bad. A black book, labeled 'portfolio' is lying on the small table in front of us. Looks like I've found some distraction from my depression.

"May I?" I ask and pull the portfolio on my lap.

"This?" Kate hesitates but then relaxes after a moment. "It's nothing special, but I wanted to have a place to stock my pictures."

"Don't make yourself so small. You have great talent, Kate," I say and flip open the photo album. The first pictures show the inside of an ostentatious church. The wall paintings seem to be one of Kate's favorite motifs along with colored glass windows. It's magnifying how she's been able to capture the sunlight that is falling through the huge window paintings in all rainbow colors. Kate and I have completely different taste in motifs and technique and still the pictures are able to reach out to me. If this isn't called talent, I don't know what is. There are also many pictures of her family, especially her father. The love is practically jumping at me from the photos. It's cute that Kate is such a family person. The last three pages show images from Blackwell, only a few of them have people in it. Guess it shows that Kate is not having many friends around here. Most of the pictures are taken in front of the dorms. Looks like she's witnessed a Vortex Club meeting from afar. I remember that day. I was watching Kate and the group from inside the dorms through a window. Nathan, Trevor, Taylor, Victoria and another girl with her back turned to the camera are sitting on a blanket, laughing whole-heartedly. Kate has captured the joy of the group quite perfectly and somehow she managed to change angle and perspective and even getting some close-ups without getting noticed by them. One of the close-ups that were taken from the other side shows the girl's face and I audibly gulp. I should have known the person could only be Rachel Amber.

"Everything alright?" Kate asks a tad worried.

"Yeah, yeah sure. I'm fine. I was just surprised to find pictures of our favorite club in here." Kate's cheeks become rosy and she focuses on the floor a bit too hard. "I mean, the pictures are great given the poor models you had."

"I think Trevor has a nice smile on pictures," Kate mumbles.

"You're right he has and even Victoria doesn't look like the bitch she is, huh?"

Kate nods and turns away, still blushing.

I scroll to the last page that holds three portraits: Trevor, Victoria and Rachel. Rachel is the only one who's not smiling. She's having a dreamy look upon her face, quite contrary to the other picture of her. She's multi-faceted for sure and darn, she's beautiful. I can see why Chloe was so smitten with her…

I keep staring at the picture and somehow my stomach is bubbling with envy. Rachel had so much more time with Chloe, but that was my fault all along, wasn't it? And even if it wasn't, I shouldn't be angry with her. She lost her life thanks to this jerk of a teacher. The anger still seems to get the best of me as my hands starts shaking again. I press my eyes shut and suddenly the tremor stops. This wasn't the shaking of my hand but the shaking of the world around me. I reopen my eyes and stare at the picture again. A sharp pain shoots through my head and then the photograph fades into a white light that's eating away all of my surroundings. Kate's room has disappeared and a second later I find myself with my forehead against cold glass. I'm inside of my dorm room, starring outside the window. The Vortex Club meeting from Kate's pictures has morphed into another reality with another shade of me in it. I watch how Kate's sneaking around the group with her camera, pretending to photograph the squirrels. After a short while, Rachel is waving goodbye to the rest and leaves the campus alone. The rest of the Vortex club remains and by now seem to have noticed Kate as I can tell that Victoria has started making fun of Kate.

Only now, I realize what I did. I am back. I tricked time again. I'm back in Arcadia Bay when it all still made sense. When Chloe was still part of this world! I jump away from the window and start running down the floor of the campus. I need to talk to her, like now! But then, for her nothing has changed. She doesn't know anything about us… I can't just walk through her door and fall into her arms. I need to think of a plan. A perfect plan. I need to stop Mr. Jefferson and I need to stop Chloe from dying on me. But still, I have to meet her first. Preferably, before she meets Nathan in the bathroom. I can worry about the rest later.

Waiting for the bus, feels like an eternity to me but when it finally arrives I find it hard to force myself to get in. My heart is hammering like crazy all the way to Chloe's house and when it finally comes to knocking on her door everything inside me screams to bail. Sadly, the door is ripped open from the inside before I managed to run away and David comes storming out of it. He practically runs me over and I fall flat on my butt.

"Sorry," he mumbles while helping me up. "What were you doing in front of our house?"

"I'm…" I can feel the heat rising up to my cheeks. I haven't expected to bump into David, although it shouldn't be that much of a surprise.

"Aren't you one of the Blackwell students?"

"Yes, I… I wanted to visit Chloe." The only thing I can think of right now, is that I want to thank him for saving me from Mr. Jefferson and telling him to get this jerk in prison now! But I can't gamble my chance of doing the right things at the right time.

"Chloe you say? I never saw you too together before."

"We're old friends."

"I don't know if that's good or bad but it can't be worse than her 'new friends'." He rubs his chin. "Chloe is not here. She's out with one of that 'new friends'. I don't know where though, she doesn't leave notes or calls, or anything. Guess, your visit was in vain. I could take you back to Blackwell if you need a ride. Going there myself now."

"No thanks, I think I've got an idea where to find her."

"Well, then you really must be good friends with her. I live under one roof with her and hardly know where to find her 24/7."

I want to tell him that Chloe does care about him and that I know what Chloe means to him, but this would be more than awkward. Instead I politely make my leave and walk back to the bus stop. There's only one place I can think of where to find Chloe.

The sweet putrid smell of the junkyard floods my nose half a mile before I actually get to the entrance of the area. It feels awkward to set foot on this terrain again after having found Rachel Amber's corpse here. It's also the place where Mr. Jefferson shot Chloe and captured me. Not really a location that holds a lot of good memories. If Chloe knew, she'd never set foot on it again, but for now, it's probably still her most favorite place. I walk through the gate straight at the spot where Chloe and I trained with David's gun. The junkyard seems deserted, but I'm not yet ready to give up. I hear punk music coming from the railroads and so I tiptoe over to the small cabin that I had found when I was looking for empty bottles, and I was right. I can hear Chloe's voice from inside in-between a whizzing train and the loud music. My heart flutters and my feet slow down on their own. I don't know how to face her right now - or ever. Besides, it seems she's either talking to herself or not alone and given it is probably the latter, I don't feel like bumping in. A quick peek can't hurt though. I just need to see her for a moment. Alive and hopefully happy.

I crouch under the window and carefully glance over the windowsill of the cabin. Inside, Chloe is sitting on the couch, a beer in her hand. Just like a remember her. This whole scenery fits her character so perfectly well. Just then, I recognize the other person whose dancing in front of Chloe wild and free as the music itself: Rachel Amber. I guess, I shouldn't be surprised. Chloe told me, she'd come here with Rachel and I even found the writings on the wall. She's moving in perfect tune and just like Chloe she seems to belong right here. Chloe is watching her silently with a look I haven't seen on her face before. A few seconds later Chloe gets up, takes Rachel's hand and starts dancing along. They get real close for such destructive music and I wonder if they're listening to the song at all by now. An uncomfortable, almost painful feeling erupts in my gut as I keep watching their bodies synchronize. I blink longer than necessary and when I open my eyes again, Chloe is pulling Rachel into her arms, pressing their lips together. My breath gets stuck in my lungs and I take a step back from the window. It's hard remembering a normal breathing pattern and it seems my body is not yet ready to obey anyway.

I wanted her happy, right…? Yes, happy… but maybe not that happy…


End file.
